by Alisha Basso
The sage rose, brushed off some of the heaviest bits of mud, and beamed. “We did it.”
“Her?” Leinos gestured toward the woman. He started to say she could not be, but the unfamiliar woman stared beyond them to where the Ravery had begun to shrink.
“No!” she shouted.
She launched herself toward it, dragging the horse along. Had Vraz just said he had done it? Could he mean…? Leinos stepped into the woman’s path and caught her. She thrashed and twisted, stronger than he expected, landing a kick to his shin before he pinned her legs between his. Still, she fought, almost knocking him off balance, pummeling him with her fists and writhing against him. She elbowed his head and yelled to be let go.
The Ravery squeezed shut with a sigh.
“No,” she said again, this time an anguished whisper.
The wind died and the storm broke up, just as it had before. The last pale rays of daylight illuminated them through the dense forest.
Her garments were thin, their hearts pounded together, her tense curves molded to him, and quick breaths stirred the hair on his neck. Little by little, her body went limp, and still he held her tight, telling himself she might try to escape again. She carried the Ravery’s stink with her, but her own scent teased through, fresh as a cool morning. An intense urge to keep hold of her overtook him. He stroked her back and whispered into her ear.
“You are safe, k’varo risa.”
She pulled back, still in his grasp, and looked at him, brown eyes wide, generous lips slightly apart and scarcely a fingertip from his. She had high cheekbones and a stubborn-looking chin, but it was her mouth that stole his concentration.
What was she? Horsecaller? Goddess?
Woman. With his blood still roaring with fear and elation, he could have laid her on the soggy ground and taken her right there.
“What did you just call me?” Lauren demanded.
He blinked as if snapping out of a spell and eased her feet to the ground.
Her arms had twined around his neck and her body melted to his like a lover.
The question had came out harsher than she’d intended, Lauren thought, but she’d never been able to control that sharp tone when she was livid or terrified or frustrated. All of which she usually avoided. All of which quivered through her right now.
She noticed the others staring and felt a blush creep up her neck. Pindar stood near, motionless, breathing steadily, though she’d dropped the reins. She took them. She’d been in a daze since mounting him outside the barn to follow the odd old man in the multi-colored cape.
Somehow, Mr. Vraz had led her and Pindar through the woods to where an old woman waited, then forced them down the “rock drop,” a stone embankment in the northwest corner of the farm. In a driving rainstorm. Insanity. But where they landed was not the sandy creek that cut through that area. It was a heavily forested glade the likes of which she’d never seen.
And the smell. Foul. Small wonder their mother had always forbidden them to go to that part of the farm as kids. She never explained why. But this was some other place, even though the same storm had been raging here as it had where she started. Or was it another time? No, not possible.
Was it?
“You,” she said to Mr. Vraz.
He inclined his head. “Third Degree Sage Vraz at your service, Lady Horsecaller. Welcome to Cirq.”
Two other heavily cloaked figures bowed to her, the man who had grabbed her and one other, older. Good God, were they holding crossbows? Friends of Mr. Vraz.
She pushed her hair out of her eyes and wondered absently what had happened to her riding helmet. She frantically searched the area for any familiar landmark. The trees were truly enormous with trunks that at their base were big enough to hide a truck and six-horse trailer.
Where was she?
“I am High Crone Sebira,” the aged woman said. “I also extend welcome to you, Lady Horsecaller. You come at a time of great need. There is no time to waste.”
Come? Kidnapped, more like. “This is your fault,” Lauren said to the sage, ignoring the others. “How’d you do it?”
“Ah,” he said with a smile. “I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you.” The smile faded. “No joke.”
The one who’d held her bowed again and said, “I am Leinos, Supreme Guardian of Cirq. We apologize for the poor quality of this reception but welcome you to our land.”
Part of Lauren’s brain registered that beneath his drenched exterior, the man was handsome and fit. He’d held her tight without hurting her, had somehow comforted her despite being a stranger, even though running into him had been like running into a wall. He’d rubbed her back and said a few words, some in a language she didn’t recognize, yet felt familiar, like the echo of a dream.
He was about her age with short-cropped dark hair shot with silver. A jagged scar ruffled his right eyebrow, and his nose had been broken at least once. Just like Mr. Vraz, he smelled of wet dog, but also of leather and pine. The barest trace of a certain kind of smile lingered in his copper colored eyes. She felt her gut tighten in response.
Not the time for that.
“I am Pheeso,” the older man holding a crossbow said, dropping to one knee.
“Guardian of the Supreme Guardian. Welcome.”
She looked from one to the other, fighting competing urges to laugh and cry.
“And your name, Lady Horsecaller?” Leinos asked.
Lauren’s clothes were soaked and she was getting cold. Her feet squished inside her boots. Pindar rested his chin on her shoulder and breathed warm air down her neck. It felt good and grounded her enough to play along until she figured out how to get home.
“I am Lauren Gallagher…of…what is Cirq? Is that your country?” Leinos nodded. “…of the United States,” she finished, feeling ridiculous. She yanked off her gloves and stroked Pindar’s velvety nose with her fingertips. “This is Pindar.”
“He is magnificent,” Leinos said before turning to Vraz. “Are you sure? How can the Horsecaller be a woman?”
“I am sure,” Vraz said.
“Oh, yes,” Sebira said at the same time. “Thank the goddess. Very sure. She is the direct descend—”
A sharp gesture from Vraz cut her off. “Not now.”
“But—” Leinos began.
“Think on the meaning of this, Guardian.” The old woman took a step closer to him. “A woman Horsecaller. From the goddess herself.”
“No,” Lauren said. “No, no, no. I don’t know what that means, but I’m not it.”
“You are,” Vraz said.
Crone Sebira smiled and nodded, entirely too smug.
Lauren changed tactics. She already knew the futility of arguing with the odd man in the multi-hued cloak. Clearly, this old woman was no better.
“Can you repeat what you said to me before?” she asked the good-looking one. He, at least, had displayed a small measure of skepticism that she was what they said she was. Which she wasn’t.
He hesitated a fraction of a second before answer, then repeated what he had said. “You are safe, k’varo risa.”
She’d been anything but safe wrapped in that man’s arms. “And what does that mean?”
The Supreme Guardian radiated power, perhaps enough to protect an entire land, but at that moment, he all but shuffled his feet in discomfort. “It is from the old language. A term of endearment, I believe, for a horsewoman. Forgive me if I insulted—”
Lauren waved him off, unconcerned with appearing rude. “I need a minute,” she said.
She led Pindar several yards away to the edge of the clearing where tree trunks formed a dense wall, her brain in overdrive as she glanced over her shoulder to where the others stood watching. She positioned Pindar so that he blocked their view.
Vraz had messed with her mind somehow and brought them here, she was sure of it. And the old crone had a hand in it is well. Sages and crones. Honestly. Whatever else they were capable of could probably be done to her with o
r without a horse in the way, but she felt better with the big gray’s solid body in between.
Implausible though it seemed, she had to face the reality that she was in a different place. She hadn’t been everywhere on Earth, but no place she’d ever heard of or seen in a documentary had trees like the ones surrounding her. Not only could she have parked Stephen’s truck and six-horse trailer behind each one—with room to spare—but their trunks were smooth and black as the calves of her riding boots. They soared so high above, she couldn’t see their tops, and they were naked except for a few tiny green buds.
But it wasn’t spring. Not where she’d been a short while ago, anyway. It had been fall. And it had been morning, not dusk. She moved closer to one of the giant trees and scraped at the bark. Real. For a moment, she’d had a wild hope this was some sort of crazy hoax or a bad dream.
Lauren had always been good at analyzing situations and acting quickly to resolve challenges—at work anyway. It was how she kept her life on an even keel—stomping down molehills before they became mountains. If only she’d recognized Darren for the mole he was…
She’d immediately known the swirly thing had been some sort of portal and tried to get back through it before it closed, but the big guy—the one who called himself Supreme Guardian—had stopped her. Clearly, they planned to keep her here against her will.
Yet, they were giving her time to think. They hadn’t tied her up. They’d been polite, deferential even. It was too much to take in, too many shocks for one day…one hour. She had no frame of reference.
Or did she?
What the Supreme Guardian had called her sounded like ‘cavallerizza,’ an Italian word for rider, not that she spoke Italian. Her mother had called her that whenever she fell off a horse or didn’t bring home a blue ribbon from a show—rare as that was.
And, she had to consider the hush-hush family history, stories reaching back generations of an ancestor and his prized horse vanishing in a storm in that same forbidden corner of the farm. Stories her mother told in bits and pieces that never made sense. Stories of a great-great-grandfather who had been a spooky-good horseman, a man whose blood ran in her veins. Stories that ended with a line about him returning some day to claim his own.
No, she thought with a shake of her head. Impossible. Those were tall tales used to scare kids into doing what they were told. Granpa Enzo will get you if you don’t clean those stalls. Better treat your horse right or Granpa Enzo will come for you…
Lauren sucked in several deep breaths of cool air. Everything else might be different, but one thing was the same. The wet ground smelled of freshly sliced mushrooms, of home. But she wasn’t home. Not even close. She buried her face in Pindar’s warm neck, forcing the fear back down her throat. She would not cry. She’d done enough of that over the last few months.
Branches breaking overhead brought her up short. A large object landed with a thud, rolled a few feet away from her, and unfolded until it towered over her. She squinted into the fading light, determined not to be shocked again today.
Before her, a creature stood on two thin, yellow legs each completed by three long claws. Stumpy wings covered in short, red feathers stuck out from its plump body. Its squat neck supported a large, round human-like head that looked as though it might topple off. A spray of the red feathers topped a face with a thick beak, mottled skin, and glowing orange eyes. It looked like an experiment to breed human with ostrich gone horribly wrong.
The nasty taste of burning rubber spread over Lauren’s tongue as the bird-man’s wings retracted, and spindly, scaled arms replaced them.
“Oh. My. God.”
She pushed Pindar back and looked for the others. Hadn’t they seen?
Her heart jumped into her throat. If this was all a weird dream, it had just become a nightmare. “Help—” she started, but little more than a croak came out.
Just like in a nightmare.
Another creature dropped, then a third, each pausing to adjust its wing-arms. The awful things threw back their heads and howled.
That was enough for Pindar. He reared and jerked her off her feet. She heard the others shouting as she swung from the reins like a helpless doll and slammed into a stone wall, but hung on. She would not let go of her horse.
“Guardian, save the Horsecaller,” Sebira yelled. “We will hold them.”
Monsters crashed through the trees, coming from all directions. The burning rubber smell grew stronger. Lauren gagged and coughed. A loud hissing ended in a solid thwack, and the bird-man closest to her thudded to the ground, a short arrow sticking out of its skull.
She had to get into the saddle, but her legs refused to support her. Pindar scrambled back, feeling for a way out, hind end knocking into trees. She stumbled to her knees trying to keep up and grab a stirrup.
The others surrounded her. Leinos reached her side at the same moment a bird-man jumped on her. Sharp claws sliced through her leather boots, gripped her ankles, and jerked upward. Burning pain screeched into her brain, freezing her in place.
Leinos hauled her up by her arm, knocking the monster’s head clean off with a swipe of his stave. “Get on,” he ground between clenched teeth.
She forced herself to kick the horrible creature away. More bird-men encircled them. For a moment, she’d thought they’d get away, but the sun had set. It was dark, there were too many, and her legs had turned to wet noodles.
Pindar dragged her a little farther, out of her protector’s grip, and her free hand found a stick on the ground. She closed her fingers around it and whacked the feet out from under the nearest monster. It sprang right up. Suddenly Pindar stepped forward, ears flat, teeth bared. He reared and struck the bird-man down, stomping it beneath his sharp hooves.
The Supreme Guardian grabbed her waist, threw her into the saddle, and swung up behind her.
“Go!” he shouted, pointing down a narrow path with his stave. “Now.”
Instinct took over. She scrabbled for the reins and clucked. That was all the encouragement the stallion needed. He lowered his head and galloped into the unknown.
Lauren grabbed his mane and didn’t look back.
Chapter 6
LIGHT from a rising moon illuminated the path. They galloped for minutes, or hours, heads down, quiet. Lauren knew only the fear driving her away from the monsters, the thudding rhythm of Pindar’s stride, and the feel of the stranger at her back. The extra passenger didn’t bother the horse even though the weight was more than twice what he normally carried. Still, she could feel Pindar growing winded, and she wanted to stop or at least slow, but didn’t dare.
She was bothered by their passenger. Very bothered, but she couldn’t think about that now. Couldn’t think of anything except escaping.
The woods ended abruptly, and the trail continued over flat open ground. Leinos asked if they could stop. He was asking her?
“Is it safe?”
She felt him nod against her tangled hair, and she slowed Pindar to walk, then halted at the top of a small rise. Behind them about one hundred yards, the huge dark trees were indistinguishable from one another, blending together like splattered black ink spreading over paper. Ahead, the ground sloped toward a river with a bridge leading to a stone fortress. Both a few miles away yet, but clear enough in the bright moonlight.
And the moon.
Well, there were two.
Lauren blinked in wonder at the sight of the twin moons, knowing it sealed tight any arguments about where she was or, more accurately, where she was not. Not that the flying monkeys hadn’t been evidence enough. They weren’t in Kansas anymore.
Her heart pounded the blood in her brain, jumbling her thoughts about what exactly had happened.
She had to get home. Somehow. Had to get Pindar back to Steven.
For the moment, though, with the immediate danger passed, two moonbeams on her face, and her bones tingling from a hard ride through a mysterious wood with an equally mysterious man, there was no denying what she
really felt.
Excitement.
That was wrong, wasn’t it?
Pindar’s sides heaved. He pawed the ground and snorted. He didn’t think it was wrong.
Leinos slid down and turned to her with a smile that said he felt the same exhilaration. He became serious quickly, though, and placed his hand on her knee.
“All right?”
Was he kidding? She stared at him, trying to order her thoughts. In the extraordinary illumination cast by the double moons, she could see his eyes held kindness and intelligence, and the lines at the corners hinted at a sense of humor. But there was a certain weariness she recognized as well that spoke of a long-held sadness. She had glimpsed that same fatigue in her mirror often enough.
The short answer to his question was ‘no.’ She was not all right.
“You cannot go home,” he said as if able to read her thoughts.
But then, it would be her most pressing concern.
He gave her leg a light squeeze and let go. She wished he hadn’t. Let go, that is. He traced one of the slices in her boot made by the bird-man. Strange, she would swear the thing had cut through to bone when it happened but could feel nothing now.
“I have to go home.” Maybe. Eventually, a voice whispered within.
“Perhaps, but only Vraz can say.”
At least he hadn’t said never. Lauren looked to the line of trees. “Are they okay?” Flashes of light shot into the sky from deep inside the wood.
Leinos nodded. “It will take more then a handful of yekerk to slow those three.”
“There were more than a handful of those nasty beasts, and those three are…old.”
Leinos looked at her sharply, and she expected a rebuke, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he gazed at Pindar with the same reverence Vraz had when he’d first seen the horses. Pindar flicked an ear in their direction and swung his nose up and down as if in accord, jingling his bit and flapping the reins against his sweaty neck. Of course he agreed horses should be gazed upon in wonder, but Lauren knew the nodding was simply one of his silly habits.
She was glad to have Pindar with her in this strange place. But it was small comfort against the enormity of her situation. She’d been kidnapped, and there would be no ransom. These people wanted her for a reason, but it was clearly a case of mistaken identity.